Good Morning
by Canadino
Summary: So before you're dead, get yourself out of bed. Post!Inception; Arthur/Eames


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

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Eames has seen many beautiful things as beautiful things seem to exist in excess in dreams but the most beautiful thing he has laid eyes on, and he can attest to this, is the glow of early morning sunshine on Arthur's collarbone. Arthur's shoulders are bony and he's got the wiriest frame Eames has seen on anyone who eats, but his skin turns a lovely golden when the sun hits it just right and Eames blinks the sleep out of his eyes just to see it. Arthur has been blessed with a body that looks magnificent in practically anything he puts on – and Eames has seen him in a good multitude of outfits from his trademark suits to his vacation slacks – but of course, a body that looks good in clothes will probably look better without.

Eames doesn't consider himself a late riser, but Arthur is prompt as usual and has already brewed himself a cup of coffee, one he is enjoying while gazing out the window in a place Eames can't place. It's somewhere tropical because England is never as warm in the morning and he doesn't hear the sounds of traffic that are the soundtrack of Arthur's apartment. Arthur hasn't immediately dressed himself – a first, in Eames's book – but has wrapped some sheets around his waist tastefully, as if the natives might object to his nudity while climbing up the wall to look in their window or zooming in on their binoculars from a few buildings away. Being particular does have its drawbacks. Eames sits up and notes the sheets are soft, not starchy under his bum and gives the place five stars.

"Come back to bed, darling," he calls in his low early morning voice, spreading his arm out invitingly next to him. Arthur turns with what is distinctly Arthur-apathy and Eames expects him to snort in reply.

"I've got coffee," he says practically, holding up the mug. "And you know as well as I do once I get back in bed with you, we won't be leaving any time soon."

"You've spilled worse things that coffee on this bed," Eames chuckles meanly, and ignores Arthur's scowl. "And we don't have a job yet, which is why you agreed to come with me in the first place." Arthur opens his mouth to protest a whole court case about why he should not slide back under the coves with Eames, but Eames gives him his best bedroom eyes and they are the eyes Arthur cannot resist. Arthur lets out a growl that goes great with hair-tearing, sets the mug of coffee down hard on the dresser, and sulks back toward the bed.

"That's more like it," Eames purrs, reaching out to pull Arthur next to him before the man can even get on the bed himself. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" He traces a finger across that lovely skin, still warm from the sun.

"I'm in no mood for a morning round," Arthur states clearly.

"I never said that, did I?" Eames asks, but kisses the side of Arthur's neck, under his ear in the spot that makes the point man twitch. "Dom explicitly said we should be comfortable with each other, we're his _dream team_." Eames likes his bedrooms dark and mysterious because they make the sex more dark and mysterious but white is good to wake up to too, and Arthur is plenty dark and mysterious enough to make up for the décor. White makes him feel like a child again with his first crush (he can't remember his first crush anymore) and not that he fucked his coworker last night (but not for the first time – but he can remember _that_ night).

"That's not what he meant," Arthur protests, but Eames is already climbing on top of him, kissing that lovely skin again and throwing the sheets over them like a cave because Arthur feels uncomfortable and exposed if they do it in the open like he's a virgin or something. Arthur says he's not in the mood but his hands find themselves on Eames's back, keeping him there and anchored so Eames kisses his throat and whispers things that would make him mum back at home blush.

"I had a real dream last night," Eames says wistfully, his hands wandering south to make Arthur groan and arch into him. "About our first mission together and this time, I drew the straw so I could share a room with you instead of whoever that bloke was who was our Architect at the time. And I did many enjoyable things to you that night. It was nice."

"Bastard," Arthur hisses, and pulls him down for a kiss.


End file.
